I was washing dishes the other day, wondering why I always washed them, rinsed them, but never put them away.
I thought I did this for convenience.
They dried themselves.
It wasn’t my hope for a solo cup that led me to the towel.
I had the urge for difference, so I removed the neglect from my drying rack:
Two frying pans from dinner, five plastic containers I needed to return to my mother, four perfectly clean plates, three bowls from last week’s dinners, and a couple of steak knives I never ate steak with. I dried them and put them where they belong.
I walked away. I didn’t look back.
Photos (top to bottom): Scott Umstattd, Nathan Dumlao, Andre A. Xavier
Posted in: Micro Fiction, writing